What Stood Between Them
by butterfly collective
Summary: The muse went into some funny places today. Matt and C.J.'s thoughts as they prepare to enjoy an evening spent watching baseball and eating chicken wings


She walked of the elevator dressed in her usual three piece business suit and high heels, but when Matt looked at C.J., he saw a goddess.

Her mahogany hair settled on her shoulders, in soft curls, her face was wide and intelligent. Like him, she kept herself in fighting shape and like him, she preferred to do her fitness training outdoors, hiking the neighboring mountains with her friends and occasionally a boyfriend as well. He knew she loved to camp and to go on weekend fishing trips, hiking miles though the thickest brush and barest trails to find that elusive spot where she'd reel in enough fish to hold a cookout.

Often he went with her, just the two of them leaving the rest of their world behind them for a little while.

The outfit she wore now was to be taken seriously inside a conference room or in front of the judge and jury in court. Still, it flattered her figure or rather her figure flattered it.  
C.J. had always been one of the hottest corporate attorneys in L.A. She had spent most of her years before the bar working with him including in the penthouse suite of the 10 story building that offered a view of a huge chunk of L.A. He worked as a CEO at the same company though he'd branched out more and more into his passion which was investigations.

She was his partner in that venture as well. Right now she looked at him as she passed by on the way to her office.

"Hi stranger, how are things hanging for you?"

He smiled at her, feeling suddenly tongue tied which shouldn't be the case, they had known each other forever. But then he'd noticed that he'd been doing that more and more lately.

"Great…I closed that deal with Whitlock," he said, "Not that the other partners didn't threaten to hit us with more pencil whipping."

She sighed.

"Yeah…well I got hit with another slew of motions myself on the ADA case I took up for Chris' boyfriend," she said, "The business should just put in the ramp, it'd cost them less money."

Chris, their office manager had been dating a civil rights attorney who needed a second chair for this class action ADA case involving one of the musical theaters downtown. She'd taken it up eager to flex her legal muscles to help right a wrong. She looked over to see Matt gazing at her intently clearly wanting her attention.

"Still on for later?"

They had the usual tentative plans to meet at his place to eat wings and drink plenty of beer while taking in the Giants game with a room packed with other rowdy fans. Hoyt, Chris, her boyfriend, Roy and his date, Sonia and a few others.

She furrowed her brow.

"I'd have thought you'd be out on with one of your string of women," she said, "All out of town for the weekend?"

He forced a smile on his face, but then that came easily with practice.

"Nah, I'm stag tonight," he said, "So I'll see you there…I'm leaving early today, got to take care of Stocks and Bonds but I should be there ready to host."

She shook her head at the names he'd given his new fish, some people thought they were odd choices for pet names but she got it.

"I'll see you later," was what she said before disappearing in her office, leaving nothing but a trace of his favorite cologne in her wake.

C.J. shut the door behind her and went into her office, not bothering with the messages. She knew her voice mail would be packed and she saw that Chris and most of the other staff had already left for the weekend.

The weather had been forecast to be a typical sunny day, not too hot and she had planned to go hiking with Devin from the accounting firm downstairs but he'd canceled out on her yesterday so she didn't know what she wanted to do. Maybe she should ask Matt…but no she didn't think he'd go for a hike. Maybe they could take his sports car up the windy coastal highway or his sailboat out around the marina. They weren't all that much alike but somehow…they'd been tight since the time they had been assigned to the same kindergarten class.

Platonic of course, why bust up such a great friendship with sheet wrinkling sex which tended to complicate everything? Besides, Matt had no problems getting it on with all the women she heard him hooking up with after work. But she often wondered, because underneath that business suit, she knew his hours in the gym had made him rock hard. He could play a mean game of racquet ball his latest passion, he had left her prostrate on the court after 20 minutes against him and all she could think about was when he reached his hand to help her up, was pulling him down on top of her so she could finally know what that felt like, to feel his hard body against her softness.

Not that it would ever happen like that in real life because he'd never even looked at her that way, best to leave anything else to her fantasies. But that was okay wasn't it, just to imagine and not make it real?

Matt had straightened out his beach house before C.J. arrived, and had fixed up the chicken wings that he'd picked up on the way home from the office. They usually crashed on the couch watching the games with the wings between them so they'd stake out a portion before the crowd arrived. The beers were on ice, waiting and the flat screen television primed to go. Stocks and Bonds had settled down in their new tank sending the other tropical fish hiding behind the colorful rocks.

Matt looked forward to the Giants game but having C.J. on the couch with him would be the high point. She usually dressed casual in soft cotton slacks and a tee-shirt accentuating her shapely frame, her breasts pushing against the front of it, behind usually some silly slogan.

He knew he'd sit there like he always did lately wondering what they felt like as he caressed them. Creamy soft globes spilling out of her lacy bra, into his hands, which would squeeze them gently.

Would they be tipped by a rosy hue that would harden beneath his touch? He found himself drawn into his collection of fantasies that he harbored about his best friend, ones that he of course had never shared with her. But he thought about what it'd be like if when she came inside the door, he didn't act as he always did, telling her to hit the couch while he fetched the beers since he was hosting. What if instead, he slipped up behind her quietly as she walked in the door, looking for him and placed his hands around her waist pulling her closer to him instead? The scent of her cologne would intoxicate him as he kissed the nape of her neck, would she pull away from him? No, not in his fantasies, not at all, she would want it too.

She would murmur softly as he kissed her and reached his hands from her waist to cup her breasts which though sheathed by a couple layers of clothing would harden in his hands. Far from being uncomfortable, she'd arch herself while he palmed her, asking him in whispers to throw caution aside.

And oh he would…as soon as he got her clothing off. Would he rip through it in a frenzy of lust or peel it off layer by layer, the latter because he wanted to know every inch of her body and to kiss it.

The birthmark he knew existed on her lower back. The tattoo of a frog she had told him about that existed below her bikini line. It had always played a prominent part of his fantasies.

He knew where the scars were on her shoulder from where a surgeon had repaired a bullet wound she got when he'd been framed for murder and on the run. He knew about the thin silver lines on one foot from where she'd been sliced by sharp rock while fishing off a jetty. But he didn't know whether the tips of her breasts turned a darker pink when aroused and what he'd read in her eyes when he touched her.

They'd been so close and yet he knew so little about her, and damn, he wanted to change that. Because somewhere along the line he had found that his feelings for her had changed and he couldn't pinpoint when it happened. He hadn't woken up one morning and seen the world differently, but he knew he did now.

But what was he going to do about that?

C.J. drove to his house, a dessert pie sitting next to her on the seat. She looked forward to a couple hours kicking back and relaxing with Matt and her friends like they always did during baseball season.

Still, she wondered what he thought while they sat close enough so their shoulders brushed comfortably while they were watching the screen. She found that as often as not, she hadn't been thinking about the game, she had been thinking about upping the ante in their relationship. Here, she had been sitting on a couch with a hot looking guy and why wasn't she doing anything about it?

He certainly hadn't made the moves on her but then he had his pick of any woman in L.A. so why her? But oh, her fingers itched to touch him, to slip beneath his shirt and play with hairs on his chest that she had seen when they'd gone swimming together, and her mouth wanted so badly to brush against his, to part his lips with her tongue and to slide it inside just to taste him.

Heat flashed through her at the thought but she liked where this was going and besides, it was just inside her head and not for real, right so what was the harm? In her harmless fantasies, she could lean towards him on that couch and kiss his mouth gently at first and then, more intently, and in her imagination, he kissed her back, tasting every corner of her mouth.

Sweat broke out on the nape of her neck as she thought about reaching towards his shirt and pulling it over his head, so she could see that firm chest, sprinkled with dark hair and reach out to feel his muscles dance beneath her fingers. He liked that and in the interest of equality of course, she'd take off her own shirt and…her bra and a jolt filled her as she imagined his hands and then his mouth on her breasts, one at a time, while she held onto him.

She bit her lip as she tried to plan things out a bit, like her approach…would she go through with it or lose her will as soon as she saw him? She knew what her answer to that question had always been…that she'd fold in the first seconds after she saw him, while hoping he didn't see inside of her. It was much safer if he didn't know, because the few seconds she'd wait, time suspended to see how he'd react. That first visceral reaction she'd read in his eyes long before he'd find words to say. She knew that he could hurt her as no one else could, much more than the bullet that had lodged in her shoulder.

That had burned like a poker, but her heart had already been aching when she had told him she loved him and his silence and his hand touching her face had been her answer.

Matt heard the doorbell ring and went to answer it, wondering what he would do with his best friend. Of course there was the baseball that they both loved but it was the company that mattered most. There was only one woman he wanted to see and she stood even further away than the few inches of door that separated them as he imagined her on the steps.

So he thought about his approach as he reached for the door knob.


End file.
